


Gravitas

by Affrettando



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Some minor violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 11:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Affrettando/pseuds/Affrettando
Summary: Magic flows through your being as easily as air fills your lungs. You are to stardust and supernovas as the sea is to the moon and tempests





	Gravitas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lich Irelia (Avatar_of_Ragnarok)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avatar_of_Ragnarok/gifts).



> Just a quick flash fiction. I really wanted to experiment with some stuff. Also this is for a good friend of mine that has been humouring all my Kat/Ashe rants.

Boring.

Boring. Boring. Boring.

When did you ever think that your days would become as such? A sort of slow meandering crawl of pointless repetition.

You humour the ground a moment, taking long languid steps. A flick of your wrist and a corpse compresses, consuming like the ouroboros. The dark void and magic pulsing in the absence what once was and suddenly isn’t. You don’t know when you grew tired of seeing what the carbon would leave behind. The sparkly stones used to cause you far more excitement. Now, the fields below your haven littered with them does nothing for you.

How many had come? You never did know. Today there had been four, a paltry sum really.

Boring.

You could leave. Any time.

Where would you go? Anywhere.

Why should you leave? Magic flows through your being as easily as air fills your lungs. You are to stardust and supernovas as the sea is to the moon and tempests

No, they were not to think you ran away in fear of being bested. You would humour them.

You in all your splendor survey your kingdom of bloodied stone and the twinkling stars of the thousands who sought to subdue you.

In spite of it all, you can not help but feel loneliness.

~

Things changed one day.

You always feel the disturbances before they come. The fools always think they can hide. You have seen it all. Sometimes they try to be stealthy, others come to your temple fortress to appeal to you, others issue challenges. Not all of them die, no, you’re not that type of monster.

She came like the sun would over the horizon, so sure and dignified. You are not sure at first whether she is just brave or stupid. You have seen those who approach with a commanding bravado, only to die like the many others. No, this isn’t the same, the surety of her steps piques your interest.

Your fortress allows a view like no other, the land stretched beneath its floating form, laid bare in submission to you. She looks so small in comparison.

You think you mishear her when she asks you to come with her. Your eyes narrow as you recognise the mantle upon her squared shoulders, Ionian make. Likely military. A laugh bubbles up at the audacity of the request. She would have to make you.

You are fast, but it seems she is faster. Unlike the many you’ve killed before, she weaves beautifully, dodging your attacks left and right. Orbs of concentrated magic criss cross in a flurry and yet, somehow defying all possibility, not a single one finds its mark. As the dance carries on, you feel something new. It starts in your belly, and winds up through your chest. It’s like a poison, twisting throughout your body, demanding to be noticed. When you finally recognise it for what it is, you’re deep in your frenzy, barely able to notice a set of blades whirling towards your flank.

Frustration.

What a foreign feeling. One you haven’t felt in many years, not since those many years of seeking solace at the Ghost-Willow. Not since the times when Mama scolded you, or when Evard teased you. Anger, yes, that was familiar, you felt it often, but frustration? The feeling of desperate vexation that fed upon lack of power. No, that should have died a long time ago with the old priest when you killed him.

The blades fly past as you swerve in the air, only to spin and turn, redirecting themselves back towards you. You knock them aside with your magic, frowning as you note they are unmarred by the hit.

Your attention turns back towards the woman, a frown tugging at your lips.

“What manner of magic is this?”

“It seems you do not wish to comply.”

The comment shocks you. What complete ignorance to ignore your query as if it was unimportant.

You feel your mouth open to ask again more threateningly, when even more shockingly, the woman turns to leave. Your rage fills your being, crackling at your fingertips when you rupture the ground before her.

“I am not finished with you yet.”

Your voice booms, echoing through the canyons that framed the mountain your temple once stood before you took it to the skies.

The woman stops, unfazed. The blades hovering at her back seems to mirror her emotions, nonchalantly gliding. Almost mockingly.

“I will not take someone who is so afraid to leave.”

You stare shocked at the woman, her red armour haloed by the still rising sun. Your teeth grind in anger. How dare she? Who was this woman, and what right did she have to mock you? You are pure power embodied. A force of nature that had no capacity to be afraid.

The sun frames her face as she turns away, the distinct Ionian features dance with a small amount of amusement.

“Besides, you will not be able to stop me from going.”

You bring a fist up, a shriek of frustration tears from your throat, magic sizzling under your skin.

She leaves.

And you let her.

~

It takes much faster than you thought it would for things to go back to the same monotony you’ve always known. Like a dream, it was like the Ionian woman never existed. You begin to wonder if the loneliness you ignored in your heart is making you insane.

Still, those seeking to harness your raw magical power still came. Seemingly more often. You begin to notice a pattern. Ionian military.

The first time you torture one turns far less fruitful than you hoped. He bites off his tongue, so you kill him. Useless. Well trained, but still not strong enough to hope to defeat you. You begin to be more tactical in your attempts, seeking out the most sniveling looking shrew as your prey. It takes a while, but eventually you know enough to paint a picture.

Her name is Irelia. Will of the Blades and Captain of the Ionian Guard.

Her name rolls in your mouth like honey, thick and cloying. Unlike the ire that wracks you when you discover the Ionian military has finally decided to make a concerted effort in finally subjugating you.

The captain had returned empty-handed, the only one ever to do so unharmed, and refused orders to attempt once more. You’re not sure if this fact insults you more than the fact they continued to send droves of untenable foot soldiers.

Irelia’s words eat at you from the inside out. She knows nothing of you. Nevermind that you have been slumbering for an eternity, deaf to the outside world and its changes. That same world that had been cold and unaccepting to you. You aren’t afraid to leave. Invaders are gone, nature provides, you never will need to leave. The solitude and constant need to defend your home is a small price to pay. You are not afraid.

~ 

You don’t know why you’re still curious. 

Surprise comes again when you learn she died once. How peculiar. Death wasn’t something you feared. You are not sure if you will die like others, raw magic sustains you differently. Even if so, you knew it to an unavoidable force, much like the source of your power. You know of stories of necromantic magics, and of fearful abominations, but never before did you see someone return so whole.

You remember of a man flanked by Noxian warriors. His soul no longer tethered to his body, yet it moved, a being of pure violence and instinct. You tore his head from his body. Twice, actually. Then the Noxian invaders left, and you never saw him again.

She wasn’t like him. His eyes were hollow, and spared no grief for the warriors that fell around him.

She was a complete soul, defying death, the only thing you feel more powerful than yourself. 

Death isn’t corporeal, but you are. No being is more powerful than you. 

And yet… she still interests you. 

~ 

The Captain comes at last when you send your summons in the form of a grievously injured soldier carrying your message. She approaches at dawn, not unlike when she did before. Her face bellies no surprise to see you standing on the ground, for once within reach. You beckon her closer, and she complies. 

“Why do you not tell them to give up?” 

Irelia tilts her head. 

“They would not believe me when I told them it was pointless.” 

It is unsaid, but you know she talks of your fear. Like a punch in the gut, you feel that frustration rising again.  It curls up like your fingers as they wrap around Irelia’s slim neck. Her eyes widen in surprise, and her blades fan defensively but take no action. 

You try hard to squeeze, but your fingers betray you, unable to complete the task. You feel a hand on yours, gently prying your grip away. You notice your untamed magic swirling around the both of you, before you calm it and your racing heart. 

She looks at you with sad eyes, full of pity. 

“Do not look at me like that.” 

Your heart is heavy, you do not know of these feelings. 

She releases your hand, eyes never leaving yours. 

“I can not change their minds. They will send more, and eventually they will no longer allow me to refuse.” 

She leaves you again. 

You let her. You can’t help but feel as if she has taken a part of you with her, a feeling you have never felt before to this day. 

Perhaps it is time after all to leave your safe haven. There was an entire world to see, and no one alive powerful enough to stop you. You feel a burden you never realised was there shed away. 

Irelia’s retreating form was now but speck in the distance. A knot forms in your stomach when you think you may never see her again. 

Your eyes close and you breath in the island air. 

You are a force of nature, and she can not defy you forever.  



End file.
